


Where It Counts

by bodtlings



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Poems, Poetry, fic poetry, im gonna make it a thing, is that a thing?, lets see how it goes, mattsun and makki might pop up later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-05-01 07:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5197811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bodtlings/pseuds/bodtlings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The lines in your forehead stem from concentration and uncertainty, but the lines in my verse far exceed your worried looks and blossom into something we can barely comprehend:</p><p>Love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. known for breaking through limbo

**Author's Note:**

> yo! its about damn time i write something for the hq fandom. took me a while but here i be.
> 
> so this is going to be a collection of poetry based on iwaoi. some of them might follow others, or they might stand alone. other seijous might make an appearance along the line too. there isn't much else to say about that so enjoy!!
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/bodtlings) // [tumblr](http://bodtlings.tumblr.com)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the lights go out involuntarily,  
> and i remember what it's like to lose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaaa this one's a bit sad and long, what a way to begin the collection. but the ending is optimistic!

 

i know these lights.  
these lights are  
victory   
2-1  
an assured next step forward.  
i know these lights because  
they have watched me pilot  
watched me connect  
watched me succeed.   
i know these lights  
are proud of me  
because they wouldn't shine  
so bright if they weren't.

i know the feel of the court beneath my sneakers.  
i know how they support  
how they push  
how they help me  
fly.

i know the feel of the ball in my palms  
and my team's hands on my back  
and i know what it feels like to be  
connected   
and feel part of something  
whole.

i know these things,  
but i also know the taste of failure.

lights that are always welcoming  
encouraging  
embracing  
watch my body betray me  
and watch as i go  
down  
down  
down   
onto the court my sneakers know so well.

sharp pains in spider-web trails  
leak through my muscles  
and before i realize it  
i'm staring up at the lights  
as they stare down at me.  
they're too harsh  
blinding  
disappointed  
and suddenly  
i don't know them anymore.  
the buzz in my ear  
is just as deafening.

the lights go out involuntarily,  
and i remember what it's like to lose.

fainting is like limbo,  
where you can't feel your body  
and you can't feel yourself  
Breathing, but some part of you  
just knows  
you're alive.  
it's a brief relief from the everyday,  
but it's not something i need.  
i need to be in the rotation to serve  
to be with my team  
to be home.

i am trapped until  
limbo decides to let me go.  
shadow tendrils wrap my limbs  
and keep me restrained.  
the harder the struggle  
the tighter the hold.  
useless.  
i submit to the limbo,  
let my fears and my doubts come  
crawling from dark crevices  
only limbo knows how to reach,  
mocking me,  
remind me that  
failure tastes like ashes.  
it continues this gruesome cycle   
until it releases its grip  
on my sorrows,  
tired of this one sided game for now,  
and kisses me farewell.

i wake up to different lights.  
these lights don't know my victory,  
but they know a different victory.  
the victory of successful surgeries  
and long deliveries  
and various medical mysteries.  
victories that have nothing to do with  
services aces  
and 6AM practice  
and expectations   
you don't know if you're worthy of.

these lights know nothing about me  
except my bandaged knee.  
these lights haven't seen me smile  
or seen me at my best. they've only seen me  
in the midst of limbo,  
crying because i woke up  
to a dreadful truth no one ever  
wants to be told:   
my career is over  
before it began.

these aren't the lights i want to see.  
the only ones i want to see are  
the ones on the court  
the ones with my name on the headlines  
the ones belonging to the knight i wake up to.  
these aren't my lights.

i want my lights.

i close my eyes, and this time,  
i greet limbo.

the second time i leave limbo,  
it's not because it wants to let me go  
or because i've decided to.  
it's because limbo is broken.

the break is gentle,  
so soft and with such care  
it is not considered broken,  
but calmly let go.

it's not me who's broken limbo.

_Hajime._

my light,   
known for breaking through limbo.

smiles bloom into tears,  
and we just know.  
  
he's on the edge of his seat  
gripping my hand as tightly  
as he does when we both grab victory.  
the lights have dimmed  
and it allows me the chance  
to bloom into tears.

i cry on him for a long time,  
so long that by the time i've finished  
the light outside is gone  
and the light inside is harsh  
revealing  
sterile.  
he shuts them off for me  
and the only light left  
is his.

(it's the only light i need.)

he breaks limbo again in the morning.  
a gentle shake of my shoulder  
a slow run of fingers through my hair  
and I'm reminded that  
this is day two  
of many   
as a failure.

only it isn't.

a nurse carrying charts and  
graphs of people's lives  
mapped into curving lines  
and declining hills tells me  
"it's just a bad sprain.  
ice  
elevation  
a brace."  
they release me,  
and the lights are   
happy to see me go.

we stop at a surgical supply store.  
they fit me for a knee brace,  
strap me up,   
and watch me go,  
hobbling along and leaning   
onto my Iwa-chan,   
even when I don't need to.  
he has always been my support, after all.

he stops me halfway to the gym.  
"you're not going," he says.  
"you can't"  
"you're hurt"  
"you need to heal"  
it's the small "please" that makes me  
stop,  
think,  
and go home.  
he follows.

we spend the night with  _Mars Attacks!_  
hot chocolates piled high with marshmallows  
blanket forts and   
ice  
elevation  
a brace.  
a reminder.

it feels like old times.  
when Iwa-chan used to  
stay over and wrap blankets  
around his neck and pretend to be   
Godzilla smashing pillow buildings.   
he hates cheesy movies.  
i know this, he knows this,  
and yet he sits through the whole thing  
just because he knows it'll  
make me happy.

the credits roll and i can't stop  
wanting to tell him, so i don't.  
"Iwa-chan," i say. "you know,  
i'm really sorry i failed you.  
i promise i'll wear the brace  
and i promise to always be there  
and i promise  
i will not fail."

"stupid. you've never failed."  
and he kisses me, and i feel  
tears falling down my face  
in cascades. he wipes them with his thumb  
and tells me  
"you've never failed.  
you will never fail.  
i will be here at your side  
to make sure you won't.  
i'm your ace, remember?"

i remember.  
i don't think i'll ever forget.

he takes pity on my knee,  
throbbing  
incessant  
persistant  
and carries me from the floor  
to my bed.  
he drops me on my mattress  
and blows a raspberry  
on my cheek,  
to make me laugh again,  
to see the worry lines  
disappear.  
  
he falls asleep first.  
fingers run through hair  
softer than silk  
and i watch the patterns from cars  
on the ceiling in my bedroom.

i always thought the lights were proud of me  
because they wouldn't shine  
so bright if they weren't.  
cameras  
newspapers  
tv shows.  
all so bright and so proud.  
but i think  
i've been looking at the wrong lights.  
the lights i need most are right here,  
glowing in the shape of  
warm congratulations  
and entangled fingers  
and late nights studying.  
the lights i need most are  
in smiles of praise  
in smiles of understanding  
in smiles of support.

these lights are warm  
comforting  
home.  
these lights are a palm's width   
of a soft glow.  
this light is the best to  
fall asleep to,  
play next to,  
fall in love with,  
and i know that, in the morning,  
i will wake up to him,  
and that light is my favorite.


	2. it's our victory, not theirs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what is free time. here's a little thing i wrote as a thank u from oikawa to iwaizumi. will i ever be over seijou losing? the answer is no. 
> 
> [tumblr](http://bodtlings.tumblr.com) // [twitter](https://twitter.com/hajimetxt)

if the seats in the stands  
are the jury  
and the claps of their hands  
our judgement, hurry  
up and stand your ground  
on these thin white lines  
where once we found  
all the subtle signs  
of our resolve. do you   
remember the day it began?  
do you remember your unlaced shoe  
and the many laps we ran  
at captain's orders? recall  
the day you smiled after  
practice, your face flushed and the fall  
of your heavy limbs. laughter  
echoed in that gym for hours,  
pulsating muscles overworked and  
burning new-found powers  
into our hearts. i breathed on  
your neck with loose lips  
and watched the team file out.  
quiet came over us as an eclipse  
of exhaustion fell. an extended bout  
of peace had settled when you asked  
me if i was happy that day,  
and i smiled. i basked  
in the glory of you and put at bay  
that bubbling love. yes,  
i was happy. i remain so,  
even now. i confess:  
i'm glad you asked and that you know.  
if the seats in the stands   
are the jury  
and the claps of their hands  
our judgement, hurry  
and stand beside me,  
for i have no regrets.  
open your mind and see  
that we did our best. all the bets,  
each spike, each block,  
each receive and each   
set have brought us here. lock  
away your insecurities and reach  
for my hand. look at them.  
tears may be falling and spines  
may be hunched, but they grip the hem  
of the jersey they wear that lines  
their pride. the seams  
of their muscles and heavy  
feet against the linoleum are beams  
that hold them steady.  
they are wrought with relief  
and even more sorrow  
as their grief  
reminds them of tomorrow   
and the loss of their seniors,  
mentors and models. it's   
because of you their demeanors  
are so unlike them. they miss  
us before we're even gone.  
but that's okay. they've learned.  
they will go on  
as a new team, with burned  
memories guiding them forward.  
we've done all we can.  
they've taken what we ordered  
and turned it into some plan  
for a brighter beginning. come,  
we have bows to take   
and speeches to tell from  
us four to our teammates. heartbreak  
doesn't last, iwa-chan. you did  
all you could, and that was enough.  
no more sulking. rid   
yourself of those tears. where's your tough  
face you always put on? i know it's in  
there. bring it out. you were  
amazing. you will continue to be. it's been  
fun, iwa-chan. spur  
of the moment decisions usually are.  
but this turned into something bigger,  
didn't it? each bruise and each scar  
will stay with you. this will trigger  
something larger than we know now,  
so come. stand with me, and let us  
enjoy the applause. how  
these three years have flown. each bus  
trip and home game were   
all i wanted. i never  
told you, but thank you. it's a blur  
of moments i'll never sever  
from my memory. thank you.  
thank you. make sure  
you listen to this crowd and chew  
on all you've learned. lure  
out that pride i know you have.  
if the seats in the stands  
are the jury  
and the claps of their hands  
our judgement, be proud. worry  
no more. it's over, but not  
really. we've only just begun.  
we've been caught   
in an endless journey, but we've won.

 


	3. fun fact

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> seven facts  
> for seven times  
> we kept going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more experimentation with fandom poetry woo. feedback is always appreciated!

the first fact i remember you telling me,  
when we were kids with no idea of  
what it means to conquer the world,  
was that your favorite ice cream flavor  
was chocolate because it reminded you  
of me. you said,  
‘it can be a little bitter,  
but most of the time it’s sweet.  
and besides, it looks like your hair.’  
you grew up with dark chocolate  
smeared against the edges of your mouth,  
and even when we were young  
with no idea of what it means  
to rule the court together,  
i always wanted to wipe it off  
with my fingers to figure out  
why you loved it so much. 

the second fact i remember you telling me,  
we were entering middle school, and you  
said, ‘i wanna play a sport,  
but baseball sucks and basketball  
is boring.’ i didn’t want you to go  
where i couldn’t follow, so i agreed.  
we handed in our club application forms  
for the volleyball club with the  
feigned confidence of children  
who had no idea what we were getting into.  
(it was the best decision we ever made.)

the third fact i remember you telling me,  
we were in our last year with  
practice  
after practice  
after practice  
under our belts, perfecting jump serves  
and power spikes  
and in-sync combos on inexperienced legs.  
you said, ‘we’re going to win this time.  
we deserve it.  
we can do it.’  
(that was the first time you lied.) 

the fourth fact i remember, you didn’t tell it to me,  
but i remember the feeling we both  
endured, and that feeling  
is a fact i’ll  
never  
forget.  
it felt like  
a volcano sputtering out  
the remnants of lava  
stuck to the bottom of the mountain,  
desperately clawing to get out,  
to be free, giving all its efforts  
to reach the top, but sinking back down.  
it was running water over your palms,  
trying to get a grip on something fleeting,  
but having it slip right through your fingers  
and right in front of your eyes.  
that feeling tasted like ashes,  
charred and burnt out and  
useless,  
nothing but a chore to clean up.  
(that was the first time a fact was an emotion,  
burned into our hearts and unforgettable.) 

the fifth fact i remember came in the form  
of a hospital room with someone  
who knew nothing about me except  
my vitals  
my history  
my knee.  
you sat with me, and you told the doctor  
to wait until you spoke to me first.  
you said,‘you can still play.  
you can still fight.  
you can still win.’  
and i cried on your shoulder  
until i believed you.  
(that was the first time a fact gave me hope.) 

the sixth fact came from a hidden kiss  
stolen in an empty locker room,  
when our first high school combo  
in a practice match blew everyone away.  
we were freshmen then,  
more practiced than  
we were before but naive to think  
we knew each other inside and out.  
you pulled away with a smile rivaling  
a summer sun, like that kiss was  
as natural as the blue sky and green grass.  
the fact that you stole my first kiss  
and will have my last is a fact  
you solidified in a single gesture,  
pulling the floor out from under me  
in ways jump serves  
will never do.

the seventh fact you told me,  
you said it in three simple words  
that i did not believe until  
it was spring and i had a silver band  
on my left finger. in many ways,  
you have said,  
‘i will never love another  
as i have loved you.  
i will never want another  
so long as i have you.  
for all our losses,  
all our wins,  
all our tournaments  
and practice matches,  
you were there and  
it is fact  
that  
i will always  
love you.’  
(that is the one fact that made me  
fly.)


	4. as easy as breathing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> if loving came  
> as easy as breathing,  
> no one would love  
> at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for kas, for always

loving you did not come  
as easy as breathing  
to me because  
if it did  
it wouldn't be love.  

if loving came  
as easy as breathing  
would it be cherished  
or romanticized  
as it's been so  
famously  
known to be?  
if loving came  
as easy as breathing  
no one would love  
at all.  

i've stared at your fingerprints  
left behind on coffee mugs and  
breathed in your smile  
on sunny mornings when  
getting out of bed was forbidden.  
i've watched you bite your nails  
and sing a little tune that  
you have learned to play  
on my heart strings.  

i've tangled my legs with yours  
on the cushions of a couch  
that's seen better days,  
but the only better days I need  
are days i spend with you.    
my fingers have memorized  
the space between yours,  
and I've watched how they fit  
like gloves: safe, warm,  
and as secure as locks.  

i've listened to you cry  
like the clouds, light and thin  
and afraid of existing. you  
let the drops fall where they may  
but have the confidence of knowing  
i'll always be there  
to catch them.  

i've felt your butterfly pulse  
under the tips of my fingers,  
as delicate as wings and as  
strong and sure as the sea is blue.  
i've watched your skin  
jump with racing veins  
as if coming up to greet me,  
and I greet it back with  
butterfly lips.  

if loving you came  
as easy as breathing,  
none of this would matter  
and the steady beating  
of your heart would just be  
another sound.  
but to me,  
that sound  
is the only one  
worth hearing.  

loving you  
did not come  
as easy as breathing.  
it came in nervous glances  
and overdue confessions  
and long awaited smiles. 

loving you came in  
quiet nights  
and confidentials  
and the security of knowing  
that because it did not come  
as easy as breathing  
it came steady  
and patient,  
but grew into something  
neither of us can control.  

loving you came in  
waiting for tea to boil  
and sheets to be warm.  
it came in thunderous nights  
and wanting to hide  
and sticking cold hands  
on warm waists.  

loving you came in  
worries and doubts  
and long explanations.  
from the four walls  
of your bedroom  
to the four chambers  
of my heart, those words  
have made their own library  
of books and anthologies  
love and apologies  
and every declaration  
of affection you've ever made.  
there they stay, in  
stored collections.  
sometimes they're used  
in poetry and lines,  
too scared of inaccuracy  
but begging to be read.  

loving you has come  
in every form besides  
as easy as breathing,  
but it's every other form  
that matters above all.


	5. petrichor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the shortest poem I've ever written at only 9 lines and idk if it's worth sharing but here it is anyway

p erhaps you'd like to walk with me  
e ntangled arm in arm  
t owards the rising sun.   
r emember when we were young  
i n your backyard smelling the blades,  
c urled up in the grass under shade and  
h uddled beneath canopies of branches?   
o ur days were dew drops,  
r acing to be evaporated.


End file.
